Jaded
by Misti Wolan
Summary: • "Odo viewed the transport around him, smiling when he glimpsed his bag. He didn't eat. …Yet." Thanks to her. Yet he doesn't realize everything he knows of her is only partial—or less—truth. And when your life is such a lie, who are you?
1. 0: Prologue :0

· · · **Jaded** · · ·

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Summary:

"Odo viewed the transport around him, smiling when he glimpsed his bag. He didn't eat. ÖYet." Thanks to her. Yet he doesn't realize everything he knows of her is only partialóor lessótruth. And when your life is such a lie, who are you?

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Rating:

PG-13 (Better to overestimate than underÖ Rated for probable violence.)

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Author's Note:

As you've probably guessed, I love the weird & mysterious. I worked harder on this one than my failed Voyager fanficómy sincere apologies to whoever read that one. It was the worst story I've ever written. I've gotten my hands on all the DS9 teleplays to make up for my not seeing the show inÖ several years.

If I don't feel there's enough interest, I'll drop the story. Period.

I write too much, so this one might go through periods of sterility or abrupt complete reorganization.

See a problem, let me know. Critiques are greatly appreciated. Flames are welcome. But **no blaspheming or swearing**. Thank you.

Enjoy! :)

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**0: Prologue :0**

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"What kind of fool do you take me for?"

_"The sensible kind."_

She forced herself forward, searching the dream-expanse for the speaker. She ran a small pale hand over her cropped golden brown hair. "I'm a civilian. I don't have that kind of access."

_"You used to."_

She drew a breath, leaning back against the rest of her weight. This bright red haze could not be held for long by a non-Puayth. She could wait it out. "I don't know what you're talking about. You must be mistaking me for someone else."

_"No."_

Female voiceÖ _/Bajoran/_ supplied the portion of her mind she couldn't risk actively using. So her contact wasÖ

She shook her head and sat, cross-legged. "I'm sorry. I could pass your tip on to my sister, if you'd like. Merkai's a security chief."

_"Merkai."_ Contempt rang in her tone. _"She doesn't stabilize quickly enough."_

"She does in four seconds. How could you get anyone faster?" She continued with quick ignorance to make that question rhetorical. "What do you need her for?"

_"The plagueÖ will release shortly."_ The speaker's pause betrayed her doubt.

The plagueÖ _/fordu shn/_ A shiver traveled up her arm. She concealed it easily. "'The plague'? What plague?" _/once contracted, the plague-parasite controls form, sending the infected individual into indefinite stasisóa state comparable to liquid stasis or hibernationóas the creature uses its host for its own purposes/_

_"Same applies to Emissary."_

The expanse abruptly vanished, replaced by her quarters.

Unsurprised, she picked up a paint brush beside her on the floor. _/K_óthe Bajoran who contacted her knew better than to continue contact once the message was given. She crawled over to her canvas and eyed it shrewdly. 'Emissary' meant him of the _Puayths_, not _Prapet_, soÖ

"Something Cardassian," she announced, and she started mixing her paints.


	2. 1: Friendships :1

Author's Thanks: to my reviewer **eScapefreak**

**eS.** - Bizarre, but interesting? Goody! :) That'll probably continue for some chapters, but from a different spin. If I ever lose you to confusion, please let me know. And if I don't promptly get you back, please alert me on the double. That is one problem I need hammering on. :)

--- "This is probably the longest bio on the site and nobody will even read it." Er, no... I've read some two, three times longer... & I tend to read bios of reviewers to know who they are, & sometimes I'll read an author's bio when I'm not sure if I want to read his story. I was planning to wait a little longer before updating, but I noticed how you struggle with impatience. I've had to jump through some hoops to get this up in spite of some problems I'm having with QuickEdit. :)

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Author's Note:

Though it might not be obvious for awhile, the prologue does link to the rest of the story...

It would probably help to note the location of where the different actions take place. This story has a number of DS9's normal cast & then a number of OC's—some major, some minor yet influential, & some representative. Same with species.

Review if you want more. No reviews; no more. **No blaspheming or swearing**, please. If you tell a joke, please put a :) after it so I don't misunderstand you. & seriously, you _can be cruel_. :)

Enjoy! :)

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**1: Friendships :1**

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- - - Cardassia - - -

In the center of a dusty, dank laboratory far underground, littered with Bajoran relics, a red light shimmered into being. Pinpricks of faint light twirled around.

As minutes, hours, days passed, the light solidified and grew in size and brightness.

Once it lit the entire room without shadow, it began with equal slowness to collapse in on itself. Reaching the size of a humanoid, it began revealing bits and pieces of a woman it its place.

A month—or several—after it began, it vanished, leaving a Bajoran woman behind.

Her skin and hair were oddly dull; her eyes strangely glowing. Something had been done to her.

When the last dot of red light faded away, she slowly turned to eye her surroundings. Her dark gaze suddenly shot up.

A vague smile on her lips, she sat and waited.

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Raktajino. Extra hot, double measure of kava."

Colonel and temporary station commander Kira Nerys took her order from the replicator and sat at the nearest table. She hesitated before taking a sip.

Lieutenant Ezri Dax sat across from her, a Til'amin froth in hand. "Too hot?"

"I always drink it like this," the Bajoran snapped.

Like the counselor she was, Ezri ignored the sharp tone. "So...?"

Nerys stared down at her mug. "When... I... looked over the security reports... with..."

The Trill nodded encouragingly.

She winced when her voice cracked. "He always had one waiting for me."

"How thoughtful," Ezri quietly commented.

"Yes." She swallowed. "He was." The Colonel finished off her raktajino and stood.

The younger woman sighed. "Nerys—"

"I'm on duty. Thank you, Lieutenant." With that, Kira Nerys went to Ops.

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- - - Urial - - -

"You sure I can't get you something?"

"I don't eat," he gruffly replied.

The Alissian boy shrugged. "If you say so." He scampered off to get some lunch.

Odo viewed the transport around him, smiling when he glimpsed his bag. He didn't eat.

Yet.

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Doesn't it ever get lonely?"

"Shut up, Quark."

"I mean, playing darts by yourself—"

"_Quark_."

The Ferengi raised both hands. "All right, Doctor. Don't blow up. I was just thinking that if you wanted to have a tournament it would substantially increase my profits—"

Doctor Julian Bashir turned to aim his dart at Quark.

The Ferengi promptly retreated.

Bashir smiled.

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- - - Shuttlecraft - - -

_Ai kaliné shura... Tabonoi?_

She eyed her writing as she finished, and she chewed her stylus. "_Chul_?" she asked puzzledly.

The comm beeped.

Sighing, she twirled in her pilot's seat to face the console. She absentmindedly checked the code. She hesitated, a frown forming. Should she accept it?

_Yes..._

Sighing, she replied. "Yes?"

"Where are you?" demanded the matron on the other end.

She didn't reply, watching the woman.

"Your father will hear of this!"

"Of what?" she quietly asked. "I'm a grown woman, and I'm taking my business where I wish."

"Don't you dare talk back to me, young lady—"

She palmed off the comm. She sighed. " 'Young lady'? How old does that make you, stepmother?"

She returned to her PADD.


	3. 2: Waifs :2

Author's Thanks: to **eScapefreak** and **sunaru**! :)

**eS** - Thank you. :) Personally, I think I'd like raktajino. I enjoy coffee in most of its forms, though my dad won't let me try it iced. The very topic of cold coffee makes him mad. shrug We all have our pet peeves, I guess.

**sunaru** - So the mystery makes you interested, huh? :D If I pull off what I'm trying to, you'll get plenty of that! :)

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Author's Note:

Please forgive any odd formatting. I'm having problems with the Document Manager. I think I've found a way to help, but if it doesn't work, I'm sorry. Once I find something that works I'll go back and fix everything.

A picture of a minor OC may be forthcoming. Anyone interested in seeing it?

I'm not sure how I managed the scene with Quark in this one. What do you think?

Reminder: review for more, but **don't blaspheme or swear**. Tell me what you think. I won't think you rude. :)

Enjoy! :)

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**2: Waifs :2**

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Come in."

Station Chief of Security Lieutenant Harrison entered stiffly.

Colonel Kira Nerys glanced up. "What's the matter, Lieutenant?"

"We've had an explosion of beggars overnight, Ma'm. We caught one."

"It's a crime to beg?"

"I'm just asking where they're from, Ma'm. But she doesn't answer me. I thought you might have better luck with her, Ma'm."

She nodded tersely and followed Harrison to Security. Entering the holding area, she stopped in midstep.

A frail girl huddled in the corner of the cell, shivering. "Harrison!" she exclaimed. The child's alien clothing was worn to near tatters, her pallid feet and arms bare. Her auburn hair hid her face, its coloring offset by black highlights.

"She bit an officer while under questioning," he explained awkwardly.

Nerys shot him a hard look and strode foreward, immediately lowering the forcefield. The girl didn't react—not then or when the Colonel crouched beside her. "Hello?"

No reaction. She frowned, glancing back at Harrison, who shrugged. She tapped the girl's arm.

The child turned to face Nerys, surprise flashing over her face at her nearness. Her Bajoran ridge was smaller than most—but then, she herself was small.

"Hi," Nerys said quietly.

Puzzlement showed on the girl's features.

She tried again in Bajoran. "_Greetings, child. I am_ Kira Nerys."

The puzzled frown remained at the Colonel's words until she said her name. A moment aftewards, vague recognition showed. "Kira..." she whispered. She sat straighter and pointed to herself, eyes never leaving Nerys's face. "Kira Plié."

"Kira Plié?" Kira Nerys made sure she'd heard correctly. The girl nodded slowly. "Plié_ is a strange name_," she mentioned in Bajoran.

The girl's blank look startled the Colonel.

The Bajoran child didn't know her native tongue.

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- - - Memory - - -

_Her feet rang against the flooring. She panted, her lungs burning. She couldn't slow down. They were still after her—her sharp hearing followed their movements despite—or perhaps because of?—their morphing._

_"That's her!"_

_She halted, terrified. They were in front of her, now, too!_

Plié! Dart left!

_She gasped, starting to sob._

_Plié_!

_She recognized the strong mental voice and followed its directions, but too late. She felt the numbness take her side. Her knees gave out, and she found herself on her back, unable to move._

_Chief of Security scowled down at her. "This one oversteps her bounds too easily." She kicked Plié._

_"That can be repaired." The security chief's mother stated coldly._

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

Unblinking as she transferred from memory to present, she watched the woman's lips move. Kira, she'd called herself... she thought. She recognized the usage of two languages in the Bajoran's vocal motions.

Kira Plié blinked back tears of frustration. There had been a time when she could pick up languages and their inflections by listening long enough. They'd punished her for it.

She couldn't even hear the woman, much less understand her. "_I'm sorry,_" she whispered as the frustrated woman turned to leave.

'Kira' stopped, turning to face her with a shocked expression.

_Yoo _doo_ speek... buht not Bazhoran_. Close observation allowed her to recreate the sounds in her mind.

She frowned, trying to connect the woman's words to something—anything, she'd be likely to say incredulously. She narrowed her gaze, further focusing it. Plié pointed to Kira's nose, then her own. "Bazhoran?" she repeated.

Nodding, Kira broke into a regretful smile. _Iil bee bak_, she apparently said, then left. From the man's reaction as Kira left, the girl guessed she spoke to him.

When they left without punishing her, Plié let herself smile shyly. She might not need her hearing for her gift, after all.

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- - - Urial - - -

"Where are you going?"

Odo turned towards the boy's voice, surprised to find a kink in his neck from reclining in his uncomfortable seat. "What?"

The Alissian proudly puffed out his chest. "_I_'m gonna enter Starfleet!"

He snorted. "I doubt that."

"But I'm eighteen."

He looked incredulously at the boy. "I'm sure you are."

The Alissian looked sheepishly down at his young self. "Well... I had a transporter accident."

"Really."

The boy nodded, embarrassed. "The buffers were... misaligned."

"I see."

Abruptly his companion put up a cheery front. "So what are your big dreams across the wormhole?"

"I'm going home."

"Oh." The Starfleet hopeful shrugged halfheartedly. "At least you have a home to go to."

Before Odo could ask, the boy had wandered off.

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"What are you talking about? You _can't_ go—a party's already expecting that dabo table for later! I'll lose all my profits!"

The former dabo girl watched her ex-employer with complete disinterest. "I _said_, I quit." She walked out.

Quark groaned. "That's the second one, today!"

"Do you need workers?" a spindly female juvenile asked, leaning heavily on a metal rod.

"I need a server and a dabo girl before noon, and I already own all on this station!"

The girl paused, as if bothered. Quark noticed a male youth behind her, silent and reminiscent of a shadow. She jerked her head back at him. "Lathin can serve." She slowly drew herself up from her hunched-over position, tucking her rod under her arm. She was surprisingly tall. "I can run a dabo table."

"You're asking for work?" Quark couldn't believe his stroke of luck.

She bowed her head in assent.

"Hm..." Circling the two teenagers, he eyed them critically. He'd never seen their species before; their smooth pale gray skin would be hard to forget. The rest of the girl would be, too: her flaxen hair mixed with mild blue-green and reminding him of Tholian silk, her simple rugged garment a complementing shade of magenta. Lathin's features were dark, giving him a menacing look when combined with his silent impassive watchfulness and ragged spruce tunic.

He poked the male's thin arm, satisfied with its solidness. He returned his attention to the female, focusing on her face. Well-formed, he admitted, but her eyes caught his attention. They were a similar blue-green to her hair, but something about them...

They lacked luster. That was it.

He jerked as realization hit him. "You can't dabo! You're blind!"

"Test me," she quietly replied. "You'll find me as useful as any."

"We'll see about that!" He grabbed her arm and half carried her over to the empty dabo table. He noticed her nod at her companion and glanced at Lathin just as he relaxed from bristling. It took him aback. "Well..."

One slender hand skimmed the table's rim while the other partially used her rod to navigate as she reached the dabo girl position. She inconspicuously reached two fingers forward to lightly feel the closest section. She leaned back, both hands cupped over her staff, and nodded at him.

He spun the table.

"Karjinko." She didn't budge from her relaxed position.

He tried several more times, her correctly analyzing the table each time. Every few spins, she'd reach forward to check the nearest slot.

Frustrated, Quark swung backwards.

Hesitating only a moment, she responded, "Dabo."

"_What_?!" He looked at the table and gawked.

"One bar of gold-pressed latinum each for every... three days worked?"

"Eight!"

"Five."

"Seven!"

Her head dropped to the side, sightless eyes darting to her friend. "Five."

"Seven is what I pay all my employees—"

"We know our worth, Ferengi." Her low voice rang. "Five. No less."

"No job!"

She bowed her head, accepting his denial. "Then you cannot claim exotic race publicity." She turned to go.

Quark blinked. _That female has the lobes... _"Wait!"

The shrewd young woman turned towards him. "Yes?"

"Name your terms."

"As stated, plus editing rights over what you publish concerning your... unique employees."

The Ferengi's eyes narrowed. "And?"

She didn't waver. "I know what I ask."

Quark shook his head. "That's not what I meant. What about tips?"

"I give you ten percent."

"Twenty-five."

"Bar of latinum each for every five days worked, editing rights, with you receiving twenty percent of tips."

He scowled, thinking it over. "Those are... simple terms."

She smiled slightly. "How better to avoid your Ferengi convolutions?" She quickly waved her hand in front of her before returning it to her rod. "Write it up."

"I'm sorry?"

"You've accepted, so write it that we may have it signed. My companion will read it for me."

He sighed. _Outwitted by a female..._ "Of course."

One look at her friend cured Quark of any desire to doctor the contract.


	4. 3: Coping :3

Author's Thanks: to **Inyri**!

**I** - Nice to meet somebody else who shares my views. :) I love these kinds of stories, and who needs foul language or cough? Seriously, indirect description on that matter can tell a lot more about your POV character than direct. And what visual learner from words wants _that_ on his memory?

If that's a rant, I'm sorry. This has been a pressure point of mine… Anyway, since I _don't_ want to stand trial for murder, I suppose I'd better update. :D

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Author's Note:

Again, don't blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

(Insult me if you feel I deserve it.)

Enjoy! :)

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**3: Coping :3**

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

She shivered, chilled.

Her eyes took in her cell, most of all the opening before her. She scooted carefully forward until the forcefield flared up before her. Her mouth opened in surprise. It didn't hurt!

Someone came towards her cell, palm light in hand. She scrambled back.

The guard examined her with the light. After a long moment, he deactivated the forcefield. He crouched before her and offered a hand, beckoning.

Suspicious, she edged forward, gazing at him intently. Timidly, she took his hand.

He led her to the desk, picked her up and set her on it. He reached inside a basket he had with him and handed her a roll and some tea. She looked at it, then back at him.

The man smiled, his nose like hers and Kira Nerys. He took another roll from the basket, showed it to her, and bit into it. He exaggerated his chewing, showing his enjoyment.

She nibbled the roll and licked her lips. "Your wife's a good cook," she complimented, but he frowned in confusion.

Embarrassed, she looked down.

The guard took her chin and raised it so she'd look at him, his earring dangling. She realized that woman had worn an earring like this man's. What did it mean?

He closed her hand around the teamug. Following his miming, she tried it, too. Her eyes lit up. Grandfather had made this!

She grinned at the fellow 'Bajoran'.

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- - - Memory - - - see episode 544: "His Way"

_"—Wait!" She hurried up to the Constable._

_"Major, if you don't mind, I'd like to forget all about last night."_

_"I don't think that's a very good idea. We need to talk about what happened."_

_"Very well. We can meet in my office in an hour."_

_"Let's discuss it over dinner."_

_"Dinner?"_

_"You can pick the restaurant—anywhere except a holosuite."_

_"What about Shakaar? You think he would approve?"_

_"I don't care if he approves or not. Shakaar and I are friends—that's all. Friends."_

_That stops him in his tracks._

_"The First Minister wanted me to update him on the war with the Dominion. My visit was strictly business… So… Are we going to have dinner together or not?"_

_"And if we do, then what?" His tone accusing, her temper rose to match, attracting many an eye on the Promenade._

_"I don't know… Maybe we could go dancing."_

_"And after that, I suppose you'll expect me to kiss you."_

_"It's possible."_

_"Then who needs dinner? Why don't I get it over with and kiss you right now?"_

_"Why don't—"_

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

Kira Nerys forced herself awake. She threw off the covers and hastily dressed. "Computer, time."

"The time is oh-two-hundred hours."

She struck the wall in frustration. "Can't I sleep?" she growled.

Huffing, she strode out into the darkened station.

Minutes later on the empty Promenade, she noticed two figures in the security office. She strode in. "What's this?"

The security officer started, coming to attention. "Colonel!" He nodded at little Plié, frozen with an unfinished roll and cup of tea in hand. "The girl couldn't sleep, and I thought she might be hungry."

"Hi, Plié," Nerys greeted softly.

The girl looked blank, then tried, "Hi?"

Colonel Kira smiled. She nodded, nudging the guard.

"Hi," he responded, then offered, "She seems to like the tea."

She nodded acknowledgment. "See that she's well accommodated."

"Yes, Colonel."

After a final smile at Plié. she left.

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- - - Cardassia - - -

"I asked not to be disturbed!"

The young man bowed timidly. "Forgive me, Protector Garak. A woman is here to see you. She calls herself an old friend."

The former tailor and interrogator frowned. "That so?"

"She asked me to show you this." The messenger handed him a small canvas.

He grabbed it from the boy, caution lost on seeing the painting. A younger him stood beside his old mentor Tain, a woman on either side of them, their Cardassian faces split down the middle. The younger one, to the right, was Bajoran on the right half of her face. But the one on the left…

His lips quirked as he examined the left side of her face. Raven tresses flew wild about her, black tentacles swimming in her deathly pale gray features. Funny he hadn't remembered her until he'd seen this.

…Or was it?

The Cardassian leader gave his messenger a darkly pleased glance, leaning back in his chair. "Let the girl in."

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Julian?"

He didn't glance up from his PADD. "Yeah?"

Lieutenant Ezri Dax grimaced. "Could you take a look at my back?"

"One moment…"

"Not 'one moment'! You have a patient _now_!" she snapped.

Doctor Bashir scowled. "I'm coming!"

He left his computer station and went to check on Ezri, not noticing the small figure nearby…

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

_Is that a…?_

The scrawny eleven-year-old boy crept up to the console. He glanced the Terran's way, making sure he wasn't noticed.

Extending his legs, he reached his finger over to the petri dish. He dropped a small glimmering red sample from his finger, and watched intently for the results.

Something started beeping. The boy hastily got out of there as the man came to see what was going on.

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"What…?" Frowning, he examined the readout, ignoring her completely.

A tiny bit of matter in the dish caught her eye. "Julian?" she asked, crouching to see it at eye level. "What's this?"

"I don't know!" Bewildered, the doctor was smacking buttons for tests. "It wasn't there a few seconds ago."

"Weird…" She watched it a moment more, then stood. "Now, my back?"

Julian hesitated, then came to continue her treatment.


	5. 4: Returns :4

Author's Thanks: to **eScapefreak**!

**eS** - Mumps? /grimace/ Don't worry about it. Thanks for the input—it helps to know what strikes readers. I'm glad you really like my story. Intrigue can be hard. How many details, at what point, where… And then how do you keep it all understandable? /shudder/ ;)

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Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

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Author's Note:

Criticism is greatly appreciated. I'm not ignorant of the time it takes, I assure you.

Enjoy! :)

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**4: Returns :4**

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- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Jake!"

"Kas!" The young man hugged his stepmother. He stepped back. "How's the baby brother?"

Kasidy Sisko bounced the infant on her hip. "Healthy and happy, as usual."

A pause ensued.

"Do you think the Prophets protect him?"

"Why not?" The wife of the Prophets' Emissary smiled. "He's so easygoing, it's unnatural."

"They didn't do that to me!" Jake mock-protested.

"Of course not." She smiled at her stepson's scowl. "Your grandmother was still trapped in the Orb of the Emissary."

"I didn't think of that." He took his stepmother's bags. "Do you really think…?"

The former freighter captain rolled her eyes. "With the Prophets, who knows?"

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- - - Memory - - - see episode 485: "Crossfire"

_"Time?" She would be coming, soon._

_"Oh-seven fifty-nine hours," replied the computer._

_One minute. He readied her PADD where she'd sit and got her raktajino ready… Extra hot and double sweet, as she liked it. He made sure everything was just right for her…_

_•••••_

_"Do you have to stare like that? I think it's making people nervous."_

I'll stop if you ask me to,_ he thought, but responded, "Good."_

_A few seconds passed in silence as they watched the crowd. She shifted, and he gave her his undivided attention._

_"You know, I've been meaning to ask you…" She gestured to his waist. "How come you don't wear that belt, anymore?"_

_"I don't know." He looked down at where the item had once been. "It didn't really serve a purpose… It's not as if I needed it to hold my pants up." He felt awkward and wondered why she brought this up._

_"I just thought it looked good on you, that's all."_

Good on me?_ Pleasure came from her words. "Really?"_

_"Really."_

_"If you say so…" He resumed the belt. "Better?"_

_"Much."_

- - - Urial - - -

Odo jerked awake. Unused to sleeping, it took him several seconds to catch his bearings.

He felt inordinately pleased about his first dream since his time as a solid had ended. By the time he reached the station, he'd probably need fluids.

Glancing around the transport, he saw that most of his fellow passengers were asleep, some snoring. The Alissian boy had curled up beside his seat. He smiled.

Careful not to nudge him, Odo extended his arm to get into his bag. He pulled out a fluffy handwoven blanket and tucked it around the youth. He leaned back, examining his work.

The lights came up. "We will enter the wormhole shortly." The captain's voice came over the intercom. "This is a sight none should miss. After that we have three hours to Bajor."

"Will you help us find a transport to Deep Space Nine?!" yelled the Alissian, fast lucid.

"I'll do that," offered Odo.

The boy grinned at him. "Never mind!" he hollered at the captain.

He then noticed the blanket, smirked at Odo, and handed it back to him. "I'm fine, thanks."

Odo reluctantly accepted the return. "You're welcome."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Cardassia - - -

"Kanar?"

Reclining on his couch, the woman nodded suavely. She matched the right half of the left Cardassian female in the painting. "Thank you, Elim."

He filled two glasses and offered a toast. "To old friends."

"And fellow mercenaries," she returned with an amused grin and swallowed some of her alcohol. An un-Cardassian action, as if it mattered to him. A troubled look passed over her face. "Elim…"

"Yes, my dear?"

"About… The lab you've found… With the strange Bajoran test subject?"

Her knowledge of the top-security matter didn't surprise him. She'd infiltrated the Obsidian Order, back when he was young. He poured himself more kanar. "What of her?"

"Follow her suggestions."

He stopped his glass at his lips, eyeing her. She stared at the far wall with a long face. He returned his kanar to the table, leaned forward, and squeezed her hand—his people's version of the Human kiss on the cheek, and she knew it. "My dear?"

She glanced at him, sighed, and turned away. "Nothing," she quietly replied. "I'm just… tired… of the game."

Only her tone's bitterness made him realize she wasn't referring to him. "I see." His mind scanned everything he knew of her, trying to figure out what might be the problem. There were too many possibilities, and he promptly gave up. "Have you kept up with Iliana?"

For some reason, his visitor found that hilarious. Once she settled down from laughing, she gave him a grateful smile. "She's married Retorin."

Garak frowned. "Retorin…"

"_Jeyer_, Retorin."

He blinked. "Jeyer? But I thought…"

"You thought wrong," she returned. "He was on B'Zhor all along."

"Bajor."

"Pardon?"

"What you so primly call 'B'Zhor' has been 'Bajor' for quite some time."

Her face blanked. "Oh, yes." She sipped more kanar and continued. "Unfortunately, last I heard, she was trapped in the alternate universe, and Retorin was infected. Pity, isn't it?"

Garak watched her keenly. "Yes," he agreed. "It is."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Terok Nor - - -

"I don't care if she's helped us—she's Bajoran!"

"Julian—"

"Shut up, Smiley! Find that woman!"

"You won't find her."

She heard Bashir strike the Trill. "Get out there and find her!"

Listening intently, she heard the others leave Captain Bashir. She shifted incrementally in the conduit, wary of her bulging stomach. Just because he could take more abuse than most unborn infants didn't mean she was going to let him have it.

She managed to get out her scanner. One lifesign in that room.

She drew a silent breath and kicked out the grate. Her momentum carried her in, her weapon out and pointed at Captain Bashir before he could react. A quick glance judged him, and she decided to borrow an old friend's tactic. It _was_ currently legitimate… sort of. "Of course you wouldn't find me. We found you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"What's this?" Leiutenant Harrison glanced up as Colonel Kira Nerys dropped a PADD on his desk.

"Your transfer orders. Bajor will again handle this station's security. Your treatment of Plié didn't go over well with the Council of Ministers."

The Starfleet officer glanced back somewhat guiltily. "I don't know where my head was."

"Guess you'll have to get it screwed back on," she lightly replied. "If you'll excuse me, I'll see my charge, now."

"Your charge?"

"I'm taking custody."

The Human's eyebrows shot up. "I see."

Ignoring him, she stepped back to the cell, finding the little girl curled up on her bunk. She deactivated the forcefield and lightly shook her.

The scrawny child immediately squirmed and darted away before recognizing the Colonel. After that, she looked confused.

Nerys took Plié's hand and led her out.


	6. 5: Struggles: 5

Author's Thanks: to **SomniaRie** & **Inyri**!

• **SR** - Thank you. :) Garak's actually going to have an influential role, if my plot unrolls the way I'm planning. Sorry 'bout not being able to update as soon as you probably wanted… I actually should be studying for an exam, now.

• **I** - mischievous grin The two girls are my own creation; Iliana isn't, but I've taken a large amount of artistic license with her.

I always keep writing; even when I should be doing other things; like studying. :p

As for if you've already met the Cardassian, you'll just have to wait. :D

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Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note:

Criticism is greatly appreciated. I'm not ignorant of the time it takes, I assure you.

Enjoy! :)

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**5: Struggles :5**

- - - Shuttlecraft - - -

She yawned, blinking sleepily. She checked her computer readout. A few more minutes before she reached DS9… Hopefully she'd be able to keep anyone from looking at her ship—the engines, in particular…

She could always wait a few days… But, no. She wanted to be there before him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Nerys!"

Colonel Kira turned around. "Edon!" She hugged him. "How are you? It's been awhile."

Bajor's prime minister hesitated. "I've been better."

"Oh?" She guided him along her walk. "What's wrong?"

Shakaar Edon stopped. "I'm lonely, Nerys."

She smiled ruefully. "I know the feeling…"

"Would you like dinner, tonight? I have spring wine."

Nerys turned to him, troubled. "The Prophets said we weren't to be together, Edon."

"That was then. Maybe now–"

"I won't go against the will of the Prophets." She watched him sadly. "And if you were thinking straight, you wouldn't, either. I suggest you go meditate."

He frowned. "I will, but only to show you I _am_ thinking clearly."

Nerys's face twitched. "If you think so."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Careful!" Kasidy Sisko caught the wobbling vase.

Little Plié cowered. Sighing, she knelt beside the girl.

"It's all right," she said quietly. "Just try not to knock things over, okay?" She gently hugged the slim child.

Though she couldn't understand her words, Kira Plié relaxed a little. She smiled shakily. Kasidy smiled back.

"Hey, Kas!" hollered her stepson, Jake. "Want—"

"Hush!" she hissed. "Your brother's sleeping!"

"Oh, sorry." Jake entered. "Hi, Plié. How are you?"

She didn't react.

"Plié?" asked Mrs. Sisko, turning to face her.

The girl was examining the vase, again. She was keeping some distance from it, this time. Kasidy tapped her shoulder.

The Bajoran child whipped about, immediately looking at her face.

_…At her face…_

"Jake," she said uncertainly. "Is Plié deaf?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Memory - - -

_"I can't believe no one's explored these caverns." She spoke normally, knowing her voice would carry to her brother._

_"It's beautiful…"_

_Something about her brother's tone caught her attention. "Areth?"_

_"It's… It's a she…"_

_"Areth!" she hissed. She hurried after him. She found him peering through a crevice. "Ar—"_

_He waved frantically at her to be silent. After she crouched beside him, he softly told her, "I don't want her to know I'm here, Naleet."_

_Naleet skeptically looked in. Her breath caught._

_A slim alien woman went about her business in what was obviously her home. Her skin was pale even compared to a Bajoran's. Her hair was a yellowish bronze, or a dull gold. Its ends brushed her bare shoulders._

_Her loose large gray blouse draped her form, covering her torso and connected by a cord to the rolled-up sleeves. It tucked into her pleated skirt, knee-high and slate-colored. Matching boot-shaped things covered her feet to her ankles._

_Her back to them, the alien sighed, bringing a hand up to rub her lower neck. It rippled, and a wave of multifaceted dark red shuddered through the spot and reabsorbed._

_Naleet gasped._

_The woman turned abruptly. Her smooth little nose turned up slightly. Her eye sockets stretched a little to the side, the eyes themselves a mildly lighter shade of her hair's odd yellow-brown. She saw them almost immediately._

_Naleet grabbed her brother's arm to run, but the woman's arm elongated to touch a few buttons on a console as she stepped over to them._

_The crevice became a doorway. "Do come in," she said warmly in perfect Bajoran. She guided them inside._

_Naleet debated dragging her older brother away from the strange woman, but a look at him showed he wasn't going anywhere. She stayed for his sake. She wouldn't let him be drawn in by a vixen. The alien gave no sign of noticing how she enraptured Naleet's brother._

_The foreign woman guided them to a nearby table and chairs. "Can I get you something? Please forgive the poor décor. I get so few visitors. And, time…" She caught herself. "Forgive my rudeness. I'm Merow Lushpi."_

_"Kira Areth. My sister, Naleet. May I call you Lushpi?"_

_"Certainly, if you'll return the favor."_

_"Of course."_

_Nothing Naleet saw made Miss Merow seem any more than a friendly, lonely woman. Then why did she live so far underground? And what was she doing on Bajor?_

_After awhile of chatting with Areth and pointed questioning from Naleet, Merow Lushpi glanced at the ceiling. She smiled ruefully. "I've enjoyed your company, but it's getting late. Your family will be worrying, soon. Would you mind being transported to the surface?"_

_"Not at all!" Areth assured her before Naleet could protest. Lushpi went to her control panel._

_"May the Prophets bless you till our next meeting."_

_"Thank you. Bring one of your works, next time."_

_"I beg your pardon?" Naleet asked sharply before her brother could promise to do as the stranger asked._

_Lushpi beamed. "You're of the family Kira—artists." She tapped her cheekbone. "I haven't spent all these years rotting under this mountain."_

_"Do you still come out?"_

_Her cheek twitched. "On occasion."_

_"What do you look like? …Perhaps we could share a meal?"_

_The dull golden gaze became guarded. "We'll see."_

_Before Naleet could think of anything else to say, Lushpi had hit a few buttons, and the transport had begun._

- - - Cardassia - - -

Kira Naleet watched those milling about her with complete disinterest. She knew so much more, now, than she had then.

And she had paid dearly for it.


	7. 6: First Impressions :6

Author's Thanks: to **eScapefreak**!

• **eS** - I hope so. Thanks for the vote of confidence. :)

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Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

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Author's Note:

Sorry for the late update. I've been sick since Christmas, and still am not completely well. :)

Criticism is greatly appreciated. I'm not ignorant of the time it takes, I assure you.

Enjoy! :)

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**6: First Impressions :6**

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

The architecture took her breath away, it reminded her so of--

_Why think on that? _She dismissed her previous musings and focused on the artistic aspect of Cardassian design. Lovely in its grim way, it struck her fancy. Built for quick, unquestioned use--much like--

_Ah, girl. You must be getting old if your thoughts go so easily awry._

A self-conscious smile made it to her face. Her, old? It wasn't the first time she'd wondered how much time she had left. Decrepitness would descend quickly when it came, as it did for all her people.

Unless that which she could not think upon formed a greater part of her than believed. Then she might get a few gray or white streaks in her hair, first.

Her smile turned wry as she brushed her hand over her cropped pate. _As if I'd be able to notice..._

A passing red uniform and its owner caught her eye. She quickened her pace to catch up. "Colonel, do you have a moment?"

The striking Bajoran woman turned, facing her, eyes measuring. "Yes?"

She hesitated under that _/projecting.../_ gaze, almost putting a hand to her face. Could the woman tell? "Hi," she said timidly. "I'm Jer. I purchased the promenade's souvenir shop... Elim Garak's old tailoring shop--I think. I just wanted to introduce myself and ask if there's a subject of painting you'd prefer."

The Colonel nodded sharply. "Colonel Kira, but you already know that. Images of the wormhole would probably sell."

"Pardon me, Colonel. I'm not asking what would _sell_." She smiled timidly. "I'm asking what you'd _like_."

As her mind's hidden section had suggested, this gave Kira Nerys pause. Her brown eyes grew distant--guarded. "Something of... the Founders... maybe..." She rethought what she'd just said and shrugged. "The Dominion War--"

"Of course," Jer hastily interrupted. "Of... former Chief of Security Odo, perhaps? Weren't you two good friends?"

"I don't buy paintings," Colonel Kira stated gruffly.

Jer shrugged. "If you say so. Good day to you." She turned and swiftly headed to her shop. It needed to be set up by morning. _/Turn around./_ She idly followed the strong instinct.

For a moment, the Colonel stood as she had left her before continuing to her quarters. _/heartbreak--self-recrimination--resignation--loneliness.../_ Jer quietly analyzed her readings. _She's never gotten over Odo._

Her smile slowly grew to a grin, which she hid with her hand. _They'll kill me for this._

But it would be worth it.

What they didn't know was that Odo'd never gotten over her, either.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Julian..."

"I know. I need to watch my hours." He rubbed his temples. "The unidentified sample is so _fascinating_, though..."

Ezri Dax just glared at him.

"Sorry."

She relaxed, smiling. "Set an alarm if you have to. What if there's an emergency?" Her smile grew, and her eyes twinkled. "Besides, you're no fun fatigued."

Doctor Julian Bashir snorted. He waved at a nearby server. "Romulan ale."

"Til'amin froth," chimed in Ezri with a smirk.

The server promptly left.

Ezri frowned, turning around to search for him in the crowd. "Did he take our orders?"

"I think so." Puzzled, he looked around. An accented strong-winded "dabo!" caught his ear. He turned towards the nearest table.

A new girl was there, half seated on the gambling table's edge, leaning on her hands. She was an unusual alien, but his doctor's eye noticed several probable signs of malnutrition. "Ezri." He nodded towards the object of his attention. "How old do you think that gray-skinned dabo girl is?"

"Gray-skinned...?" The counselor twisted to find who he was talking about. She started upon spotting the girl. "I don't know," she quietly replied, leaning towards him. "Sixteen, maybe?"

His eyes narrowed at that--and something else. He blinked, surprised. _How..._

"That's pretty hair."

Nodding at Ezri's comment, Bashir started getting up, but he was interrupted by a drink being placed in front of him by the earlier server. He glanced at it and took it. "Thank you," he murmured distractedly, and headed to the dabo table.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Memory - - -

_He patiently listened to the security chief's tirade. The woman's fury against mixed-bloods and mixed marriages turned her face as red as liquid stasis._

_When she ended, he smiled wryly. "Do you feel that threatened by children?" he asked. "What can we do that you cannot?" He paused. "Or are you jealous that we are in some ways better?"_

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

A frown passed over her face. Lathin. He suffered still for that incident...

In her musings, she lost count. She shifted her weight forward so she'd have to move her hands. She felt the slot.

"Sorry... Karjinko."

The gambler groaned. He nudged her. "Eh, me bar, huh?"

She graciously inclined her head, leaned forward, and kissed the strip of gold-pressed latinum. She preferred this good-luck custom to that of her previous job at an ahska counter.

Her dabo smile dropped, her face blanking at that thought. No, she wouldn't recall that. Later, perhaps; but not now.

She assumed a smile. "_Dabo_," she said strongly, but her statement not suffering for her lack of excitement. She leaned towards the player. "Congratulations."

"That's fascinating."

She nearly lost her balance in regaining her former position, startled by the statement. "I beg your pardon?"

"How you read the table."

She allowed a humored smirk to surface. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I don't believe I've met your species."

"Probably not," she admitted. _Lathin!_ She was having trouble locating this one...

_Human male, brunet, thirties, Starfleet medical uniform..._ An image of him flashed in her mind.

She turned towards him. "Is there a problem?"

"How old are you?"

She stared at the spot where she knew he was, unflinching.

"...No offense," the Human continued blithely after a moment. "You just seem a little... young to be running a dabo table."

Her expression didn't waver. "Visit an ahska counter, sometime," she responded, voice flat. "This is child's work."

She turned with finality to the table and resumed her job.

Baffled, the man left her alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - Cardassian Shuttle - - -

Elim Garak cleared his throat.

The Bajoran woman didn't move from where she'd sat upon entering the shuttle. She hadn't spoken since Cardassian reconstruction workers had found her in an abandoned lab, besides to warn them against disturbing the Bajoran relics found with her. Only one had she called 'not of the Pah-wraiths'--and that one had caused some fascinating circumstances.

"You have the apologies of all of Cardassia, I assure you."

Though she'd spent hours in that position, she didn't twitch. "An unnecessary overture."

Garak nodded to himself. Of course she was bitter. "I understand you have received poor treatment at the hands of some of my people--"

"Not yours."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My condition is unrelated to your people."

He frowned. "Why were you in a Cardassian lab, then?"

No reply was forthcoming, and he looked at her. After a long moment, she turned towards him and stood, pushing up her sleeve. A bright red scar circled her wrist as a bracelet. She stilled, staring out at the viewscreen's lines of stars. "I knew they would not seek me there," she murmured.

He understood enough of her statement to realize removing her from his world most likely put her in danger. "Do you not want to return to Bajor?"

"Mind your own affairs," she sharply replied. "And I will manage mine." She returned her to her seat. "...Bajor has no gate."

"Gate?"

"Protector," she abruptly addressed. "With what are you going to destroy that lab?"

"A proton blast--"

She shot him a look that called him stupid. "Use this," she lightly offered, and took an actual bracelet from her other arm underneath her black cloak's wide sleeve.

He examined the thin item curiously. A glowing blue stone set in a plain metal band.

"Transport it to the exact center of the lab. Clear a six kilometer radius, first."

"Six kilometers?"

"It is the least destructive way of disposing of the place, I assure you."

She returned to her old position she'd held for hours previously, and he accepted her unverbalized desire for silence.


	8. 7: Introductions :7

Author's Thanks: to **Inyri**!

• **I** - Thank you. :) Don't worry—I'll keep writing this. It may just be some time between updates, especially because I write so much other stuff, too.

Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

Author's Note:

I now have a writing critique forum that's my homepage in my bio. Feel free to check it out.

Please critique!

Enjoy:)

**7: Introductions :7**

Deep Space Nine

"Bullseye," he disinterestedly observed. Quark had been right about one thing; it did get lonely playing darts by himself.

Doctor Bashir went up to the dart board and took out the game pieces. He sauntered back to the spot Miles had always had him stand…

He turned around to find a dart left in the board. He sighed and went to get it—

"Is that a good shot?"

Julian Bashir jumped. "Excuse me?" Now he noticed the petite woman. Her mildly pale skin and narrow frame bespoke probable chronic illness, if she was Human. Her wide plaid skirt went down to midleg, her hairless foreleg bare to her alien ankle-high boot-like shoes. The large green blouse was an odd cut; it billowed about her body, the sleeves connected at the underarm to leave the shoulders bare.

She timidly fingered two orange darts in her hands. He looked again at the dart board and realized the remaining one was the wrong color. "You threw that?"

The young woman bobbed her head once. "From here." She stood at the line.

"That's where you're supposed to reach." He didn't want to do this, but he didn't want to be rude, either. "…Want to play?"

"If you don't mind. I like learning of other species."

Bashir nonchalantly threw his dart. "What are you?"

"Kahl."

He frowned. "Never heard of it."

She made another bullseye. "We're—"

A Jem'hadar soldier approached her and saluted. "Merchandise is moved, Mistress."

He started. _What…?_

"Jer," she patiently corrected. "Thank you."

"I have been ordered to guard you, Mistre—Jer."

Jer sighed. "As I have informed the Dominion, as touching as I find their concern, it is entirely unnecessary. There is no need—"

"Numerous members of the Artisan's Guild have vanished, lately." Something like a smile tugged the Jem'hadar's lips. "The Kahl may detest us, but you are different."

"You differ from most Jem'hadar, yourself, _palian_." Jer ran a hand through her golden-brown hair, cropped at her ears. "Now scat before I call security for harassment." Her mild tone could've been a veiled threat or a joke.

"What more excuse do I need to leave?" The warrior's humor was evident, now. He bowed and departed.

Jer shot him a wry look. "Some people don't know when to leave well enough alone."

"You... work for the Dominion?" Bashir guessed, uneasy. He had never seen a Jem'hadar with such a temperament.

"No. I'm actually a bit of a nuisance to them. But I give them fair deals when they want something I have…"

The doctor casually landed another bullseye. "Such as…?

"Stingers' current nesting grounds."

He cast her a quizzical look.

She easily made her third and final perfect throw. "I say 'Stingers' because that's what their name means in my tongue; your kind is not familiar with them."

He matched her. "Why would the Dominion want such information?"

"They're lethal for changelings."

Somehow, her reason didn't surprise him. The Founders often acted in self-interest. "What do they have that you could want?"

Jer smiled slightly. "Various things... Sometimes I'll take something from them, like Ketracel White, to trade with scientists who want to study it. And there are... other ways."

"Oh?"

Her gaze glazed over. "Yes."

Bashir examined the dart board, then looked back at her. "Do all Kahl have such coordination?"

Jer shrugged. "I'm no doctor." She went forward and took the darts from the wall. She returned his to his hand and took a spot beside him. "Perhaps we should throw from an equal distance."

He shook his head. "I stand back here because I'm genetically enhanced."

Black streaks suddenly snaked through the woman's hazel eyes, and her tone abruptly changed into something reminiscent of Garak. "…Are you?"

Deep Space Nine

"_Does the Colonel know_?"

"_I'm sure she's figured it out by now, Jake._"

"_But what if she hasn't_?" The tall young man spoke in quiet earnest with the woman.

She sighed. "_Jake_—"

"_Shouldn't we at least take her to sickbay to check what's causing it_?_ Maybe it's fixable_!"

Plié wished she could understand the conversation going on above her. Her eyes darted from one speaker to the other, fighting to recreate the sounds in her mind, to figure out the language. Tears formed. Why did she have to be caught? Had she listened to Shadran the first time, she might've escaped Post Thirty-Eight with her hearing!

"_Jake, she's terrified of everyone. The last thing she needs right now is a physical_—"

"_But if we wait_—"

"_But if we _don't_ wait, she might end up permanently terrified of us. I'm not going to take that risk, Jake_." She took a step towards the room in which her young son slept. "_And neither are you_."

From the way the younger man looked after the woman, Plié guessed the infant was wailing. A tear escaped her eyes and trickled down her cheek. Stiffening, she immediately wiped it off, looking away.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "_You all right_, Plié?"

She watched him, frustrated, fatigued, and frightened.

Unable to help herself, she started to cry.

Cardassian Shuttle

"Protector Garak to Deep Space Nine, requesting permission to dock."

_"Garak? Aren't you a good week early for the negotiations?"_

"Now, Colonel," he replied mildly, amused. "Surely one can pay a visit to old friends without arousing suspicion."

_"Garak."_

"You needn't worry, Colonel. My business with being here early is strictly personal."

_"We're reading three lifesigns. Who's with you?"_

"One of your own people we're returning, and—

_"You're only now returning—"_

"We found her a few days ago. The third one is a puzzle for Doctor Bashir."

_"No guards?"_

"None. It is personal, as I said." How personal, he wasn't going to tell anyone.

He heard the Bajoran woman's frustrated sigh. She must be under a lot of pressure for their usual banter to irritate her, so. _"…You can dock at ring forty-two."_

"Thank you, Colonel." He cut the line.

"Shakaar."

He turned towards his guest. "Pardon?"

"Shakaar is pressuring her." At his look she didn't move. "You thought she must currently be under a lot of pressure."

Garak hid his surprise. A telepathic Bajoran?

Her dark eyes' odd glaze flared brightly before dimming. "As I said, my condition is unrelated to your people."

_…Interesting._ "So I see."


	9. 8: Alterations :8

Author's Thanks: to **Inyri**!

• **I** - I do intend to "keep up the good work." :) I apologize for the late update… chronic illness. I hope you'll keep reading.

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Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note:

Sorry for the late update. Chronic illness

Criticism is greatly appreciated. I'm not ignorant of the time it takes, I assure you.

Enjoy:)

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**8: Alterations :8**

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Deep Space Nine - - -

Jer wandered the promenade, wondering how many times Odo had traveled these exact same steps. More than he could count or remember, no doubt.

After awhile, she found herself on the second floor before the wide window. She turned around, looking down at the length of the promenade from her vantage point. It was a nice spot…

A Cardassian face amidst the mostly Bajoran crowd below caught her interest. She leaned over the rail, straining for a better look. Had she seen him before?

But his face was lost in the sea. She wondered if he'd ducked his head on purpose to hide from her…

The familiar electric tendrils jolted through her body, immediately enhancing and adding to her senses. She started. "Ow." She hadn't felt that in awhile. Jer frowned slightly. Such a reaction was unwarranted. Good behavior _was_ warranted.

The hair-prickling readiness reluctantly withdrew inwards to her chest…

"Hasan Liasy."

The Cardassian. But why that name? After a pause she turned his way. "Are you looking for someone, sir?"

He glared at her from underneath his hood. "And you thought no one would be interested in the identity of the Protector's new girlfriend, did you, changeling!"

_Pain._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Terok Nor - - -

The last modification completed, she hastily set the transporter, stepped on, and activated it.

In mid-transport she heard the door hiss open, people shout, and buttons pressed. That she was aware of it surprised her.

Deep Space Nine - - -

More shocked exclamations greeted her at her destination. She staggered, off-balance and disoriented.

This universe's Kira Nerys approached her. "Who are you?"

She grinned widely. "You have _no_ idea how great it feels to be in the right universe."

"You're from here?"

She ignored the questioner's skepticism, offering a hand, instead. "Kira Nerys," she warmly greeted. "I'm honored to finally meet you."

Her unborn son began pummelling her ribs. She grimaced.

"Are you all right, Ma'm?" loudly asked a Human male as he entered and came across the Promenade to her. Through her child she received a faint impression of surprise that she resembled his superior so closely.

She assumed a normal smile. "I'm fine. Just a little sore." Her neck had ached all morning.

Her neck…

She unflinchingly reassumed control over her thoughts. "I am grateful for your care of my father."

"Your father?" Kira had no idea of what she was talking about.

"Tekeny Ghemor. I'm Iliana."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Deep Space Nine - - -

"You have pretty hair."

The dabo girl cast a blind glance his way. "Thank you."

"Is it natural?"

"Are my eyes unnatural?" returned the tall young woman, amused. "Why would it not be?"

Jake Sisko hesitated. "Well… It would be for anyone from this quadrant. Where are you from?"

Her pale lips quirked. "If I won't tell my boss, what makes you think I'll tell a journalist?"

He started. "How'd you…"

"I have my sources. Karjinko."

"Wh…" Jake realized she was speaking to the dabo player. "Well, at least tell me your name."

One pale aqua brow raised at him, her lips still slightly smiling. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why should I tell you my name? Why should I trust you with it? Why should I even speak with you?"

Her rapid questions disoriented him. What was her problem? "It's just your name."

"_My_ name. Yes."

She turned away towards a little boy as he ran up. The spindly alien child cast a glance Jake's way, scowling distrustfully. The dabo girl bent over and let him whisper something in her ear.

She froze a moment, considering whatever he'd told her. Then she sighed, returning to her position at the dabo table. "Take care of her as best you can, then."

The boy's expression turned frightened. "But… But Iadru was stung! If she isn't treated…"

"I know. Alert me when they show signs of hatching; I'll try to contain them."

Jake tried to connect what he was getting of their conversation to any type of sting he was familiar with.

"_Dabo_. Congratulations, Sir."

The scrawny child was reluctant to leave. "What will it do to her?"

"I don't know," the woman gently replied. "I've never heard of them reaching maturity, before."

"Because they're always treated whenever there's an intrusion. But we don't get treated 'cause we don't matter."

The boy jumped suddenly, looking startled at the blind dabo girl. Her head had just dropped to the side. The young woman lowered herself to his level. "We _do_ matter. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise." She hesitated. "But that doesn't mean, you can't respectfully take it when they tell you that. It's a fine line we walk."

"Like how they cut off Iadru's fingers. They'd do something like that to me if I told them I knew they're lying." At her nod, he asked, "Why do they fear us so? Do they not understand us?"

She replied gently, "No. They envy us. They fear the _Quirni_."

"But I thought those were…"

"Legends?" She frowned. "No." She turned back to her job, distracted. "No," she repeated. "Not legends."

"But—"

The boy stopped as if interrupted, the dabo girl's head dropping, again. The child watched her and nodded as if listening to her. He ran off.

"Who was that?" asked Jake Sisko.

Her blind eyes somehow looked steadily at him. "I was not born this way."

She refused to acknowledge him for the rest of the night.


	10. 9: Homecomings :9

Author's Thanks: to **Frost Deejn** & **Thought**!

• **F D** - Thanks for the input. :) I don't think it's a matter of proofreading as much it is a failure to recognize confusing when I see it. I'm working on it. Your suggestion has helped me notice a few problems that probably contribute to the overstepping. Thanks!

• **T** - Thank you. Your comment makes me realize that I've probably overdone the OC's—again—but I'll struggle to make the story comprehensible until I can go back and fix it. :) I do not want to start the restart cycle on another fanfic… The one I have in that cycle is on restart sixteen or so. You're welcome for the review. I enjoy helping.

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Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

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**9: Homecomings :9**

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"What is it?" Doctor Julian Bashir rushed into sickbay.

Nurse Robinson looked up at him, face pale. "We have no idea."

In the midst of the medical personnel rushing about, a black viscous mass writhed on the biobed. It kept trying to send out tenticle-like strands, as if trying to find something—or one—before its shaky formation collapsed into itself.

Bashir immediately began checking the bioreadings. Nothing looked familiar, except perhaps a chemical reading or nine that resembled Odo's. "How'd it get to sickbay?"

Nurse Robinson swallowed. "It brought itself. It was better at first, but its control has been rapidly failing since it entered. I can only guess that it's some sort of neural breakdown."

"How helpful," one of the younger Bajoran nurses chirped to be silenced by the others' glares.

Faced with an impossible situation involving an unknown problem with a creature he knew nothing about, Bashir chose the only option he had.

"Get it in a hibernation chamber."

"We're putting it in stasis?"

He shot his head nurse a look. "You have a better idea?"

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

"Edon—"

He intercepted her on her way to her morning raktajino. "Nerys, _please_! You won't even hear me out!"

"Not with your head screwed on backwards, I won't!" Her anger at her old friend's irrational behavior mounted.

"But look at yourself!"

She glared at him. "What about me?"

"You've adopted a child! Don't you think, on some level, you're wanting to settle down? Marry? Have a famil—"

"Leave Plié out of this," she warned.

Before he could respond, Ezri called her over the comm. "The replacements from Bajor have arrived."

Colonel Kira Nerys didn't move her glare off her friend as she slapped her badge. "Acknowledged." She headed towards the docking ring. "If you'll excuse me, I have to work for a living."

- - - Memory - - -

_"Liasy—"_

_"Leave me, Elim." She coughed up blood, darker than a Cardassian's should be. It startled him. Her legs were trapped beneath a wall. "I'm not… who you think I am…"_

_He didn't want to know what that meant. Strength flowed from her more rapidly than it should've. He grunted, fighting the boulders. So little time—a Bajoran was approaching._

_"_Elim_…" She fought to speak beyond a hoarse whisper. Her body spasmed—or was that her skin rippling?_

_He looked closer, and realized with a quick breath that those spasms were black-streaked crimson tendrils, snaking throughout her form._

_Footsteps approached. One man. He watched his friend as she struggled with something, fighting, trying… A few minutes passed…_

_"There are none here!" the Bajoran called and retreated back to his fellows._

_And she relaxed—completely._

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

Protector Elim Garak let none see his abrupt return to reality. He checked his docking registry, found what quarters he'd been assigned, and headed to them.

He only knew two of her forms: the one she'd taken as a Cardassian, and her natural form. The form she took for her stepfamily's sake was unknown to him. Nonetheless, he would find her. Eventually.

Even if he had to trigger Heer's allergy to do it. And that would be excruciating for both of them. He'd rather not, if it could be avoided. He knew she was on the station—she wouldn't dare return to Bajor. He supposed that was a benefit.

Garak had his work cut out for him.

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

_Antimatter…_

She glided to the antimatter as best she could, shivering like an addict off his drug. She wasn't used to keeping form on her own. She wasn't sure she even remembered how.

Actually, she knew she didn't.

She dripped from the maintenance tunnel's ceiling, pooling on the floor. When she was all there, she continued towards the energy pulses she knew would enable her to purge her systems.

She couldn't stop shivering.

After purging, she'd have to hide somewhere, allow herself to naturally form—then figure out how to design and reform. She knew the design she needed to use. She just couldn't remember how to implement it. Momma had shown her how…

But that was so long ago that the memory pathway had destabilized. Why was she taking such poor care of herself? There was a reason, she knew there was a reason, if she could only remember…

She couldn't remember much of anything.

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

Colonel Kira Nerys greeted each new officer as he arrived. With her security force being returned to the control of the Bajoran Militia, she had quite a few new staff. All the arrivals' names were on the list but for one: her new Chief of Security.

She'd have talk with the Council of Ministers. Again.

What fun.

Nerys swallowed a yawn. Where was her Security Chief?

A boy stepped off the transport, graciously bowing. "Pardon my intrusion, Colonel. The Constable gave me a ride." He nodded and strode off as if an officer, himself.

Hearing someone be called "Constable" rose her ire. Odo had been Constable. She wouldn't call anyone else that.

Then her Chief of Security stepped off the transport.


	11. 10: Surprises :10

Author's Thanks: to **Frost Deejn** & **Inyri**!

• **F D** - I'm not beyond hope! Yay:) Yeah, I know it's hard… and I know that in-depth mystery is a weak point of mine. Thank you. :)

• **I** - Hm… yes, in a few more chapters. I think my pacing's off, so I'll be working on that, too. :) This a soon enough update for you:p (Next chapter isn't written yet, though.)

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Author's Reminder: **don't** blaspheme or swear, but **do** tell me your thoughts & **do** put a smiley after jokes!

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**10: Surprises :10**

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

_So this is DS9._ The strange Bajoran's dark eyes examined the corridor around her as she stepped off the shuttle. The designs matched.

A joined Trill approached her. "Wel—"

"The Protector has gone to his quarters." She automatically responded to the Trill's thought before she spoke her mind. "This station is Cardassian."

When the young woman didn't answer at first, Naleet looked at her. She realized she'd answered an unspoken question, again; it had bothered the Trill.

"What?" Automatically she spoke with the threatening annoyance she'd perfected over the last… too long. Naleet knew that modifying her statement wouldn't help anything, so she didn't bother.

The Trill calmly accepted her statement in her own strength, though the **symboiant** did help her from outwardly revealing her scrutiny of Naleet's personality. "What were you doing with the Protector?"

Naleet merely turned and gave the young woman the steady gaze that followers of her master had learned to avoid receiving long ago. Not that she would maim or kill this Trill—she knew when it was unnecessary. But she wasn't about to change the personality she'd developed over the past decades for survival's sake.

After a moment, the girl put out a hand and donned a bright smile. "Lieutenant Ezri Dax." Naleet didn't reply. Ezri dropped her hand but still sounded cheery. "Would you like to have lunch? There are a few native Bajoran restaurants on the Promenade."

Naleet gave a gracious nod and followed. The woman didn't have any duplicitous motives. The Bajoran had learned the hard way that "gifts" could easily be concealed bribes or worse.

She hadn't asked to be a Puayth's concubine.

- - - Memory - - -

_"_Puayth_!"_

_The scream jerked her attention from the Narkot she faced—_it_ finished him off, anyway. Her fellows jabbered and yelled in probably as many languages as there were companies._

_A photon grenade went off. She would've inverted if not for _it_. Pain pounded her temples as she fought to keep _it_ under control. It wasn't easy. She was too young to be carrying a sixty-year-old Quirni._

_Another Narkot. _It_—and therefore she—"saw" his knife. _Laipor level_, she analyzed, and they struck._

_His neck snapped, the warrior fell beside her. She was already scanning for new enemies. Most were ignoring her, a small female Kahl, too young to be joined or a threat. She was twelve._

_She'd been joined at three._

_They waded through the mud towards the previous scream. Jeyer was terrified. What was she doing, wandering towards a _Puayth

We can do this_, Heer insisted. _We've done it, before.

You and Momma did!_ Jeyer didn't trust Heer to keep her safe. She wasn't supposed to trust the Quirni for that. She was supposed to keep _it_ safe._

_How could she do that when she couldn't yet manage herself?_

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

She shot upon her feet, nearly flinging herself into the wall before realizing she was not in the midst of a battle. …But where was she?

A dim memory floated to her mind of coming here as a painter. A painter… like Momma, but not like Momma.

What did that mean?

She tried to get up, but her limbs wouldn't work on their own. In their wild shaking she barely got herself to a sitting position. Her teeth chattered.

She struggled to figure out her memory. Who was she, then? Heer or Jeyer?

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

_This isn't possible…_

"…_Odo_?" Nerys asked weakly.

The changeling nodded gruffly. "Nerys."

"…You're back."

Another nod. "Yes."

Colonel Kira Nerys managed to professionally guide him down the hallway. "Welcome."

"Thank you." Odo avoided looking at her. "I presume I can offer you congratulations with Shakaar or some other new involvement?"

Her chest cramped. "No. I… I'm not seeing anyone."

"So… lunch would be fine?"

"I promised Plié I'd take her to the Replimat." Nerys' automatic response made her wince. The unbelievable had happened, and this was her response to it?

Her friend looked intrigued. "Plié?"

Nerys wasn't sure that she wanted Odo knowing about the girl, just yet. "She's a Bajoran girl we found. I'm sure she won't mind you coming."

Odo shook his head. "I don't want to intrude—"

"Don't say that. You're always welcome."

A regretful smile appeared on Odo's face. "Always?"

"Of course."

- - - Deep Space Nine - - -

Bashir stared at the corpse before him.

Not a corpse. It lived yet.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Garak smiled in his private Cardassian way.

The computer beeped. "I've never seen anything like it," the doctor admitted as he went to examine the bioreadings. _Wait a…_ Doctor Bashir called up the records unidentified sample from before and of the unidentified live mass he had in hibernation. He superimposed the readings and compared the result to what lay on his biobed.

Similar. Frighteningly similar.

He took a higher resolution scanner and approached the patient. Full gouges were missing from the alien, a red-and-black mass writhing and slowly rebuilding each part.

"You can cut them in half, and they'll restructure themselves," Garak lightly commented. "Assuming they've had a few seconds to prepare for it."

Bashir's head shot up. "You know this species!"

That unnerving spy smile never wavered. "I've had the pleasure of meeting one or two."

"Can you contact one?"

Garak's smile dropped. "Absolutely not."

"Garak—"

"I understand your problem, Doctor. Unfortunately, I cannot help you in his situation."

Doctor Bashir glared.

"I can tell you that this man came out of an ancient Pah-Wraith artifact."

_Came out of?_ "How do you know this is a man?"

Garak waved at the higher energy readings at the base of the patient's neck. "Females carry lower. About where the Terran sternum is." He shrugged. "At least, that's how the female I know carries hers."

"Carries her what? Young?"

"Oh, no. They carry their young like we do—at least, they can. I don't know how else they might be able to do it."

Bashir scowled. "Then what do they carry?"

Garak smiled yet again. "That is the question, isn't it?"


End file.
